Have you ever witnessed a miracle?
Something that defies rational explanation.
Something that can only be explained by the presence of the divine.
Something that, either immediately or upon reflection, brings deep and lasting joy and gratitude.
Something like the birth of a baby.
An unexplained healing.
Survival of extreme hardship.
Miracles lead to a changed perspective, a new lease on life.
When they are happening, though, they feel impossible, disorienting, scary.
Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome witness a terrifying miracle. Jesus is supposed to be but he ISN’T. They run away dazed and disoriented. What the [expletive] is happening here? Is this real?
Mark tells us that Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joses, Salome, and “many other women” supported Jesus' ministry in Galilee. Without evidence to the contrary, we can easily imagine them as wealthy, independent, and resourceful. Strong, practical women. Organizing and building community by gathering, inviting, and welcoming all kinds of people who were curious about Jesus.
Dedicated disciples, these women followed Jesus to Jerusalem. They waved palm branches as he rode into Jerusalem. Witnessed his anger in the Temple. Shared Passover dinner where he washed their feet and commended all his disciples to love one another as deeply as he loved them.
And then they watched Jesus die on the cross. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary followed the body to the tomb. They were the only disciples who knew where Jesus was laid and that his body had been hastily prepared for a quick burial before Passover.
Having seen him buried, the Marys are sure he is dead and staying that way. So, in the rosy dawn light, they bring spices and aloes to honor his body with burial anointing. In his death, as in his life, these women steadfastly honor Jesus with their love and support.
And they are the ones to discover the empty tomb. They are the ones to meet the young man clothed in white who tells them of Jesus’ resurrection. They are the ones scared out of their minds. And who would believe them if they told anyone this ridiculous and irrational story?
Mark’s good news story about Jesus ends here. This is it. No post-resurrection appearances in Mark. He ends with the empty tomb, and the women terrified, amazed, and reluctant to tell anyone about it.
Some later writers tried to ‘fix’ Mark’s story by adding endings that explain what happened next and why. Mark begins his story, in chapter 1, verse 1, by saying “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” With such a clearly stated beginning, I believe that Mark finished his story the way he intended. By leaving it unfinished. And thus inviting us into the next chapter of the good news.
The miracle of the resurrection is our story to tell as well.
Yes, it defies rational explanation.
Yes, it’s disorienting, impossible, and terrifying to contemplate.
In a season of big bouquets of flowers, tables laden with delicious foods, and more confections than anyone should consume, we want to move past the weird part and get to the celebrating. But without the strange, honest, and painfully revealing part that came before, the joy is fleeting and hollow.
Jesus lived a life defined by the conviction that God’s kingdom of love and justice is for every person. No matter whether the world deems us important or not. No matter what we have done or left undone. No matter whether we feel worthy or not. In his words and actions, with humility and compassion, Jesus brought healing of body, mind, and soul, to all people. And then, to be sure we understand the magnitude of God’s love is stronger than any fear, injustice, or violence this world can unleash, Jesus died an excruciating death.
Jesus’ death shows that love bears all things, believes all things, endures all things. Love never dies, even when it goes down to the grave and beyond. Against all human possibility, against all rational explanation, God’s love rises to live again.
Our world tells us a story that life is a perpetual competition between “us” and “them,” every person is master of their own domain, and all our energy goes to creating and hoarding resources solely for our own use. The ending of this story is either isolation, as we withdraw from human interactions, or violence, as we defend ‘our’ portion.
Jesus shows us that we can write a different ending. [1] Wherever we are in the world’s storyline of competition, limited resources, fear and anger, dehumanization, we can jump out of that story and into another. Jesus’ story changes “us” and “them” into “we,” and replaces scarcity-thinking with shared problem-solving toward God’s vision of health and thriving for all people and creation. It’s a story of possibility and hope, new life and lasting joy, glimpsed in the early dawn light of an Easter morning.
As illogical as resurrection seems, as unbelievable as a God who loves and forgives us no matter what we have done, as frightening as it can be to glimpse the possibility of joy that lasts longer than chocolate Easter bunnies. We want to believe in the grace of this story, the promise that new and beautiful things can grow and bloom where we thought only death existed.
The ugliness of the world isn’t going away anytime soon, AND the miraculous story of God’s love is still being told. In OUR lives.
We are here together this morning because, in spite of the world’s doubt and ridicule, we dare to believe in miracles. We dare to believe that we can live in ways that build up communities, listen to people whose voices are typically ignored or silenced, and take care of one another's needs and the earth. Beyond rational explanation, we believe that God is doing something to redeem our world, and we are part of it. We are living the next chapter in the good news of Jesus Christ, bringing hope and healing to the world.
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
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[1] The idea about Jesus proposing an alternate storyline comes from Gareth Higgins and Brian McLaren, as described in “The Seventh Story” blog post (February 7, 2024), https://cac.org/daily-meditations/the-seventh-story/, accessed 22 March 2024.
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